


Hotel Royale

by mrpicard



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Episode: "The Royale", F/M, Gambling, Gangsters, Gen, Las Vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8716795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrpicard/pseuds/mrpicard
Summary: A web of crime, corruption and deceit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is meant to be the novel that is mentioned in the TNG episode "The Royale". It's my favorite episode and it doesn't get nearly enough love, which is one major reason why I sat down on a Sunday afternoon a few years ago and wrote this.
> 
> Warning: This story is completely UNLIKE my other work.  
> Warning 2: The episode describes the book as "filled with endless cliché and shallow characters", which is therefore exactly what I wrote.

**PROLOGUE**

  
  
  
  
  
It was a dark and stormy night. No one in their right mind would go out at this point - or so it would have been if the dark and stormy night had been that of an ordinary American city.  
  
But this was not an ordinary city.  
  
This was _Vegas_.  
  
A tall figure emerged from the darkness. The bright glow of the street lights lit up a face - a face that one easily forgot: Plain, bland, no big nose, no scar, no nothing; which was precisely why the owner of the face was always careful to keep it that way. He was aware that he would almost certainly lose his job (and most likely also his life, for he had seen too much) if his face were to be damaged. The boss preferred his men's faces to be as bland as possible - just in case there were unexpected witnesses: Bland faces were hard to recall.

The man reached inside the pocket of his coat and looked around. He was on his way to the outskirts of Vegas that were far away from the slot machines, the lights and the fancy hotels. This was his real territory - or rather, the boss’ real territory.  
  
He pulled out his silver gun that was still warm from the five shots he had fired a few minutes ago. The man he had shot had been tied to a chair and the whole thing hadn't exactly been very exciting; he had had much more fun with the three men he had shot before him.  
  
The man smiled coldly at the memory, put the gun back into his coat and walked on. The darkness enveloped him once more, the echo of his footsteps becoming fainter and fainter.


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

"It can’t go on like this," Apone said and waved his hand in which he was holding a cigar.  
  
"What’re we s’posed to do?" Maroon snarled. "Shoot Mickey D?"  
  
"Don’t mention that name in here, you idiot!" Gorley hissed. "You know that his spies are everywhere!"  
  
Apone inhaled the smoke of his cigar. "Relax, Gor. No one ain’t here but us. And we personally inspected this room before we went in."  
  
Gorley looked around with his one eye. "I still think it’s suicide for us to even meet."  
  
"Well, go ahead and leave if ya want for Mickey D to be the one who runs the show," Apone said calmly.  
  
"You want him to share? He’s gonna share something with us, alright - a bunch of bullets!"  
  
"Not if we make sure that he ain’t got no gun."  
  
"Yeah - as if _that_ ’s likely. Mickey D without a gun. Even if - what about his men?"  
  
"They can be dealt with."  
  
"Oh, sure. We just ask them to leave or what?"  
  
Apone gritted his teeth. He had had a feeling that it would not be easy to convince his two adversaries - he was in fact glad that he had even managed to get them to come here without shooting everyone in sight – but still, they were way too afraid of Mickey D. Of course he knew what that man would do to them if he ever found out about this meeting, but really, he had no other options. His small ‘organization’ (he loved that word) was what it was: Small. He (and the two men who were sitting there with him) had no real influence on anything; they all depended on Mickey D.   
  
Sure, it _was_ possible to strike deals without handing Mickey D over 80 per cent of the profit - but the consequences for such actions were something that neither Apone nor the two others were inclined to face.  
  
"Remember what happened to Flinn last night," Gor was saying. "Tried to rig a Blackjack game here at the Royale - without asking Mickey D. And now a box is his new home."  
  
"He was a fool," Apone said.  
  
"Yeah. And _we_ ain’t gonna be no fools," Maroon grumbled. "I wanna live for a while, thanks."  
  
"I’m not saying we rig something here at the Royale. Not under these circumstances."  
  
"Then what’s your deal, anyway?" Gor asked. "You’re all big talk, but when it comes down to plans, all you do is pussyfoot around."  
  
Apone waved his hand again. "I thought we could all come up with a few ideas."  
  
"Right. So that, if Mickey D finds out, you can always claim _we_ came up with the whole plan!"  
  
Apone smiled coldly. "Exactly, Gor."  
  
"No way, man. This ain’t gonna work." Maroon shook his head. "Not wi’ _me_ , anyway."  
  
"Fine!" Apone was losing patience - rapidly. "Then let’s just go and take care of our own damn business - which ain’t no business at all as long as Mickey D's around."  
  
His two adversaries looked at him in silence - but neither of them moved.  
  
"Now _that_ ’s more like it."

 

 **********

 

 "Rien ne va plus!"  
  
_‘Please... black... come on... black...’_  
  
Hudley looked at his last chips that he had just put onto the table. If he lost this game, there would be hell to pay later since the money with which he had bought the chips had not been his - he clearly remembered the three men in their fancy black suits who had given him the small suitcase filled with dollar bills.  
  
"Don’t forget that Mickey D always gets his money back," one of them had told him before they had opened the door for him and he had walked out of the hotel room.  
  
Why the hell had he done that?!  
  
Right - Gloria, his rather obnoxious wife.  
  
He had had one hell of an argument with her and then he had just taken all the money they had kept in their safe at home, had thrown it onto the backseat of his car and had driven to Vegas.  
  
And then he had started gambling here at the Royale, just like back then in the good old days before he had gotten to know Gloria. And, also just like back then, he had lost all the goddamn money in no time.  
  
He knew he could not return home without any money - Gloria would rip his head off (and, most likely, something else along with it). So, in his desperation, he had tried to find out who to turn to in Vegas nowadays if one needed huge amounts of money without being asked unnecessary questions.  
  
The meeting between him and Mickey D's men had been brief - and they had made it quite clear that their boss expected to be paid back before Hudley left Vegas, or... no, he didn’t want to think about _that_ one now.  
  
Hudley wiped the sweat off his forehead and watched the small roulette ball.  
  
His plan had been to gamble and win enough money to make Gloria happy _and_ to pay Mickey D back.  
  
The ball dropped into a red pocket... and remained there.  
  
Hudley stared at his last chips as they were taken away.  
  
Things were definitely _not_ going according to plan.

 

**********

 

"And I don' wanna hear no more from _you_ either!" Texas yelled and threw the phone onto the hook.   
  
What _was_ it with women, anyway? He had given his ex wife everything, hadn't he? The car (well, from time to time, at least), money, his attention, flowers, dinner invitations - all that fancy stuff women liked. And what had he gotten in return?  
  
Right - a divorce and unreasonable demands for more and more money. To hell with her - he wasn't going to give her even more! He'd call his lawyer but that could wait until he got back from Vegas.  
  
Texas smiled and looked at his new car outside. First thing he had done after the divorce had been to sell their old car and buy a decent new one. And there it was now, the best car he had ever had. What made the whole thing even better was the fact that it would be _his_ car and no one else's.  
  
Texas walked up to the shelf in the corner of the room, took the bottle of whiskey that he had placed there earlier and walked back to the window.   
  
It was a miracle that Teri had left him the house. After all their vicious arguments he had expected her to take it all and leave him naked on the street. But no, she had just taken her things and left. Hell, he'd already have forgotten about her completely if she hadn't developed that nasty habit of calling him at least twice a month, asking for more money.  
  
Texas took a sip of whiskey and immediately felt better. The fact that he'd soon be elsewhere made him smile.  
  
Vegas, the city of dreams and gambling; and of decent women who appreciated a nice man like him - sure, him having quite a few dollars in his pockets would help, too.  
  
Vegas was gonna be the greatest time of his life.


	3. Chapter 3

 

"Please, sir - I _must_ ask you to leave."  
  
Hudley gave the man a pleading look. "Let me finish this last game first, okay?"  
  
"You have no more casino chips," the rather man said calmly.  
  
Hudley eyed him thoughtfully - he knew he could probably put him to sleep with one single punch; the only thing that made him hesitate to execute his plan were the two security bulldogs that were standing next to the man, who, as Hudley remembered now, was usually working at the reception desk.  
  
He looked at the little name badge on the man's suit. 'Asisstant Manager Anderson', it said. "Mr. Anderson, there must be another way to resolve this..."  
  
The man smiled a bland smile. "I'm afraid not, sir. I _must_ ask you to leave right now - or I will be forced to call the police."  
  
"The police - oh no, that won't be necessary," Hudley said quickly - the cops were the _last_ thing he needed. "Alright, alright, I'll go." He took a few steps back and then walked towards the Royale's revolving door.  
  
Assistant Manager Anderson sighed.   
  
"It's always the same with them," he said to no one in particular. "They're always so sure they'll win, and if they don't, they just continue to gamble until they've lost everything."  
  
" _That_ one's in much more trouble though," Ziggy said from behind.  
  
Anderson turned around and looked at the man who usually handled the craps table. "Why?"  
  
" I saw him a few nights ago. Came out of one of Mickey D's places."  
  
Anderson raised his eyebrows. "In that case, he's going to lose _much_ more than money."

 

 

 

**********

 

 

 

Apone looked at the dollar bills on the table in front of him.   
  
"That's all you got?" he complained as Gor sat down.  
  
"All I got."  
  
"What'cha wanna do w'it anyway?" Maroon asked.  
  
"I'm gonna bribe one of Mickey D's men," Apone said. "I know who they are, and I've heard rumors that they're not all happy with their boss' methods. And, even more importantly, that they're not happy with how much he pays."  
  
"Y'think if y'pay 'em more, they're gonna run to you and work for you?"   
  
"Not all of them, you idiot. Just one is enough," Apone snarled and lit his cigar. "I'm gonna take Mickey D's organization apart piece by piece."  
  
"What's it gonna accomplish if one of Mickey D's men works for you?" Gor asked.  
  
"He'll give us information... such as when and where Mickey D rigs games. He lets his men watch all the casinos at night so that no one finds out at which one the games are being rigged. But _we_ 'll know which ones. And then, with our new buddy's help, we're gonna score the big jackpot."  
  
Gor was clearly not impressed. "That's one hell of a stupid plan."  
  
"All that it's gonna accomplish is us three dead," Maroon said.  
  
Apone glared at the two men. "If you got any better ideas, I'm all ears."  
  
They remained silent.  
  
"Yeah. Thought so."

 

 

 

**********

 

 

 

"Hud? Is that you?"  
  
Hudley turned, half-expecting to see Mickey D or one of his men, but no. What he saw _was_ a surprise, alright... but a pleasant one. "Jay! Spike! Fred! What are _you_ guys doing here?!"  
  
"Vacation. Just us, like back then in the good old days." Fred eyed him carefully. "We tried to call _you_ , too... but Gloria said you weren't there and she had no idea where you're hiding."  
  
"Didn't expect you to come here, actually," Spike added.   
  
"So, how much did you win so far?" Jay asked.  
  
"Not.... very much."  
  
"Oh. How much did you lose?"  
  
Hudley sighed.   
  
" _Too_ much," Spike said dryly. "Geez, Hud, what were you thinking? Gloria's gonna skin you alive when you get home."  
  
"I'm not sure I ever _want_ to get home."  
  
"Then come with us," Jay said. "The good times aren't over yet."  
  
Hudley winced. "You know how much money we lost when we gambled when we were younger."  
  
"Sure. But hey - who cares?" Fred put his hand on Hudley's shoulder. "Are you with us now or not? We can give you a few chips, no problem."  
  
Hudley took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's go."

 

 

 

**********

 

 

The man adjusted his tie and looked in the mirror.  
  
What a dull face he had.  
  
Dull nose, dull mouth, dull eyes... dull everything.  
  
Well, no use to complain about it now - and besides, it was perfect for the job.  
  
He looked at his watch.   
  
It was almost time.


	4. Chapter 4

Carlos Sandiegos was in a hurry.  
  
Which really wasn't unusual; he was _always_ in a hurry.  
  
But this time it was really necessary - he was _very_ late for his shift.  
  
He rushed through the streets of Vegas, barely paying any attention to the dozens of people around him who were strolling leisurely and looking at the big hotels, the flashing signs and all the other things that Vegas offered.  
  
Carlos had been just like them when he had arrived here two years ago. He had been filled with all sorts of hopes and dreams, and he had thought that, in a way, Vegas had been waiting just for him.  
  
He had soon realized that Vegas waited for _no one_.  
  
He had worked as a dishwasher first; the job had been difficult to get - he had asked at a dozen hotels with no success whatsoever. But then he had tried it at the Royale - and the assistant manager, Sam Anderson, had hired him right away. Carlos still had no idea why that was so or why Anderson sometimes seemed to find it necessary to 'keep an eye on you', as he loved to put it, but hey, if that was the price one had to pay for being a dishwasher at the famous Royale, then so be it.  
  
And besides, Carlos had climbed up the ladder already: He had received a promotion from dishwasher to bellboy. Now he got to see them all: The rich, the poor, the heartbroken.  
  
Suddenly there was someone in his way who had not been there a second ago.  
  
Carlos almost lost his balance, but caught himself at the last moment and managed to just stumble clumsily instead of ending up right there on the sidewalk. He turned in order to yell at the person who was responsible for all this - and found himself staring at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  
  
And - she was looking directly at him.  
  
"Excuse me... I... I... I'm sorry!" he croaked, forgetting about his anger.  
  
She smiled. "It's my fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."  
  
Carlos began to sweat as he was desperately trying to find something to say. In a few seconds this meeting would be over and this beautiful woman would vanish. She opened her mouth, but then her eyes focused on someone or something behind Carlos – whoever or whatever it was, it was definitely not pleasant.  
  
"Please - take me away from here!"  
  
Carlos simply stared at her for a few moments before her words finally reached his brain. He didn't understand why he was doing what he was doing, but it didn't matter.

Not now, anyway.

He grabbed the woman and pulled her with him, his shift all but forgotten.

 

**********

 

 The man walked up to the revolving door of the Royale and took a quick look around in order to see if things were the way they were supposed to be. In his job, no one could simply enter a building without checking for trouble first.  
  
No trouble here for the moment, though.  
  
He went through the door and then right past the front desk. No one stopped him - only a fool would try to stop one of Mickey D's men. He walked up to the elevators, perfectly aware of the fact that he appeared to be lost in thoughts to pretty much everyone who looked at him. But he was far from being lost in thoughts: He was checking his surroundings constantly, making sure that no one came too close, no one pulled a gun...  
  
Even now, while waiting for the elevator doors to open he was prepared for an attack.  
  
But none came. The elevator was empty and he took yet another seemingly casual look around that was anything but casual - he was looking for explosive devices. Only when he was satisfied that there were none (well, none one could see, anyway) did he step into the elevator and wait for the door to close.  
  
He carefully examined the buttons on the wall before he pushed the one for the 3rd floor and the elevator began to move.  
  
After a few seconds the elevator stopped, the door opened and the man looked around carefully before he stepped out. No one was here. His senses told him that this was no trap, but it was hard to simply take things as they were - in his business, an attitude like that was usually fatal.  
  
The man walked up to a nearby door that had the number 35 on it and knocked twice. The first thing he found himself staring at when the door was opened was the barrel of a gun.  
  
"Raise your hands and then come inside," a rather loud voice said.  
  
The man held up his hands. He was armed, sure - no one in his right mind went out without at least a knife - but he had no intention of using his gun at the moment. He slowly walked through the door and heard it being slammed shut behind him. A second man, no doubt. Very efficient - almost as efficient as the boss.  
  
He felt the barrel of the gun touching his back. "Move."  
  
He did as he had been told and walked into a rather large hotel room. Three men were seated around a small table. One of them stood up.  
  
"Welcome, Mister...?"  
  
"X," he said. "That'll have to do."  
  
"Sure."  
  
The other two men eyed him suspiciously while he was being 'escorted' to a chair. He sat down and put his hands on the table.  
  
"I assume you know who we are?" the first man asked and lit his cigar.  
  
"Yes." No point in lying - at least not now.  
  
"And you know why you were asked to come here."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You want more money than you're getting from Mickey D."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You know that we can give you exactly that if you start working for us."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It's not gonna be an easy thing to do. You know what Mickey D does to traitors."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good. Then you know what's at stake. But then, think of the money you're gonna get for this. You make sure that Mickey D doesn't hear about us playing our own little games here at the Royale, and, in exchange for that, we pay you twice as much as you get from him."  
  
The man nodded. "Sounds good to me."

 

**********

 

Carlos couldn't believe his luck. He had just met this beautiful woman and now he was actually pulling her with him. To where he didn't know, but really, it didn't matter anyway. What was important was that she was with him and -  
  
She suddenly stopped.  
  
Carlos stopped as well and turned around. "What is it?"  
  
"Thank you for taking me away. They aren't following us."  
  
"Who are 'they'?"  
  
"Men sent by... a certain someone."  
  
"Someone?"  
  
"Doesn't matter," she said. "I gotta go now." She pulled her hand away from his.  
  
"Wait...! I don't even know your name!"  
  
The woman smiled faintly. "Rita. My name's Rita."


	5. Chapter 5

Texas opened the door of his car and took a deep breath.  
  
Oh, the scent of money. Fame. Glory. Gambling. Hotel bars. Beautiful women.  
  
He got out of his car and carefully locked its doors. Vegas was a rather bright place to be with all the shiny lights and whatnot, but there sure also were lots and lots of dark elements - elements who would want nothing more than to steal a brand new car.  
  
He walked up to the revolving door of the hotel that he had chosen. He had been to Vegas many times, of course, but he had developed a strange habit of staying at a different hotel each time he was here. He loved the different atmospheres, the different casinos, the different gamblers... and, of course, the different women.  
  
He entered the building and walked up to the front desk.  
  
The man behind it smiled eagerly.  
  
Texas smiled back. "Hi. I just arrived here in Vegas and thought I'd ask if ya've got a room left for an old gambler like me...?"  
  
The receptionist nodded. "We have a few vacant rooms at the moment."  
  
"Then book me in."  
  
The receptionist smiled even more. "I will be happy to, sir." He made a note in a rather large book in front of him and then opened his mouth again in order to say something else when his eyes focused on someone who was just entering the building: A young man who was wearing a bellboy uniform.  
  
"Carlos!" the receptionist exclaimed. "Where have you been?"  
  
"I'm late, Mr. Anderson - I'm so sorry!"  
  
"I can see that." Anderson shook his head. "Now get this man's suitcase. Room 41. We'll discuss this later."  
  
"Of course, sir." Carlos took Texas' suitcase and walked up to the elevator with it.  
  
Texas looked back at the receptionist. "Kid looks like as if he's in some sort of trouble."  
  
Anderson sighed. "That's my opinion, too." He handed Texas a key. "Here. Your room key, sir."  
  
"Don't ya wanna ask for my name first?"  
  
The receptionist stared at Texas. "Oh... yes... right."  
  
Texas smiled. "Kid's worrying ya, eh?"  
  
"Yes. It's just that I... I've never had any kids..."  
  
"I understand. They sure grow on ya, even if they aren't your own."  
  
"Yes, they do indeed. Now… I need your name, sir."

 

***********

 

"That was too damn easy," Maroon said and shook his head. "He never should've said yes so quickly!"  
  
"He had already made up his mind before he even walked in here," Gor complained.  
  
Apone rolled his eyes. "Stop whining, you fools. I told him all about our offer in advance. It _is_ quite a lot of money that we're talking about here. That sure tempted him to say yes."  
  
"I don' like the smell o'this," Maroon drawled. "It's a goddamn trap!"  
  
"How can this be a trap?"  
  
"If he told Mickey D 'bout our offer..."  
  
"Why would he?" Apone was getting agitated again. "He _is_ sick and tired of his boss."  
  
"Who told you that?" Gor asked.  
  
"I have my sources."  
  
"Sources you're not gonna reveal to _us_ , huh?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Gor winced. "I agree with Maroon. I smell trouble."  
  
Apone lit another cigar. "We'll see about that."

**********

 

"Come on, Hud... I told you I'd give you some money for a few casino chips," Fred said. "You'll see, they'll let you gamble, no problem. Anyone with money is welcome at the Royale. Ain't nothin' to it. I know you'll pay it back some day."  
  
Hudley sighed. He still didn't like the idea of accepting money from his friends - but at this point, more gambling was probably his only chance of getting out of Vegas in one piece.  
  
"Alright."

He took the money and followed Fred, Jay and Spike to the reception desk.  
  
The receptionist seemed to be deep in thoughts, but neither of the men paid much attention to that.

"We need a few additional casino chips," Spike said.  
  
The man looked up. "What? Oh, of course." He looked at Hudley. "Sir, you -"  
  
"He's got money." Fred pointed at Hudley's hand. "You can't throw him out if he's got money."  
  
The receptionist sighed, but was clearly not in the mood for any sort of argument. "Very well." He took the money from Hudley and handed him a few casino chips. "Just use them wisely this time."  
  
"I'm planning to," Hudley said and turned away from the reception desk.  
  
Time to get down to business.

 

**********

 

Sam Anderson drummed his fingers on the reception desk. When would that damn kid finally come down here and talk to him?  
  
"Mr. Anderson?"  
  
At last.  
  
"What happened, Carlos? Why were you late?"  
  
"I... I... I met this wonderful girl on the street."  
  
Anderson simply raised an eyebrow.  
  
"She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen! She asked me to take her away - and so I did. That's why I was late. I think she was afraid of some guys who were looking for her."  
  
Anderson sighed. The kid definitely _was_ in trouble.  
  
"Why were they looking for her?"  
  
"I don't know, and I don't really care. All I know is that I wanna see her again."  
  
"Do you know her name?"  
  
"Rita."  
  
Anderson frowned. "Rita? What did she look like?"  
  
Carlos smiled dreamily. "She was beautiful. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall..."  
  
Anderson gulped. "Look, kid... if you met who I think you met, you'd better forget about her right away."  
  
Carlos stared at him. "Why?"  
  
"Because... there's only _one_ Rita I know of who matches your description. And she's not just _a_ Rita. She's _Mickey D_ 's Rita."


	6. Chapter 6

 

Rita stared at the glass of champagne in front of her.  
  
She knew it'd get her even more drunk than she already was - but she honestly didn't care. She had managed to get away from Mick's men. That was cause enough for a celebration.  
  
She didn't have much else to celebrate, though. Not after what had happened a few hours ago. She had walked into Mick's and her apartment - she had come home a little sooner than expected - and there he had been, with some random woman, right there in their bed.  
  
Rita had lost count of how many times she had already witnessed such a scene. But this time, she had done something different - she had yelled around instead of simply leaving and coming back later without even mentioning anything. This time, she had actually had the nerve to tell Mick that it was either her or these random other women. He had only laughed, of course, and had told her that she was nothing without him.  
  
Then she had just run out in order to get away as far as possible from him. Sure, it had been fun for a while to be with the man whose name was feared like no one else's - but it wasn't fun anymore. Especially not since she knew that he'd send his men after her to bring her back.

She watched the bubbles in the champagne and thought of the young man she had met a few hours ago. He had been nice and gentle.  
  
She realized that she hadn't even asked for his name.  
  
What she _did_ remember, however, was his uniform. She knew it very well because, hell, being Mickey D's girl sure meant she knew her way around hotel casinos. He worked at the Royale, no doubt. Maybe she should pay him a visit?  
  
Rita picked up the glass of champagne.  
  
Later.

Champagne first.

 

**********

 

 

Texas rubbed his hands and looked at his thick wallet on the table.  
  
Everything was exactly how it should be - the money was there, he was there, and most importantly, Teri was _not_ there.  
  
He took the wallet, walked up to his hotel room door, opened it and - almost slammed into a young woman.  
  
She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him with big eyes. "Oh my, I'm so sorry! I didn't watch where I was going!"  
  
"Oh no, it was my fault," Tex replied. "I can barely forgive myself for not noticing a beautiful woman like you."

She blushed. "Aww, thank you, Mister... err..."  
  
"Texas. Just Texas."  
  
"Texas," she repeated and smiled. "I'm Vanessa."  
  
"Nice to meet ya, Vanessa." Tex smirked. "Now, what's a wonderful lady like ya doing here in Vegas?"  
  
"Oh I... I just figured I'd come here and do some gambling," she said.  
  
Texas nodded. He had realized right away that the young woman wasn't very smart, but hey - one took what one could get, right? "Want me to show you how it works?"  
  
Vanessa's face lit up. "You'd do that?"  
  
"Of course, Honey."  
  
"Oh, that's so exciting!"  
  
"Yeah." Texas patted her arm. "I know it is."

 

**********

 

"I need to talk to... to... one of your bellboys, dontchaunnerstand?!" The woman just barely managed to remain on her feet - and it wasn't just her stilettos that caused this problem.  
  
Anderson winced inwardly at the intense smell of alcohol that came from her direction. He knew who that woman was, of course, and he knew who she was asking for, but dammit - he'd only get Carlos into trouble if he called for him now. No, he wouldn't do -  
  
"Rita!"

Carlos, who had come out of nowhere, rushed to the woman's side. He grabbed her arm and gave Anderson a pleading look. "May I take her into your office for a moment, sir?"  
  
Anderson sighed. "Be my guest."  
  
"Thank you!" Carlos half-dragged and half-shoved the woman into Anderson's office, where he gently helped her into one of the chairs, closed the door behind them and then sat down in the chair next to hers, still not believing his incredible good fortune. "How did you find me?"  
  
"Your... uniform," she drawled.  
  
"Oh." Carlos smiled. "Right."  
  
"Y'know what?" she muttered. "It's no usssse anyway. I might as well throw myself off the nexxxxt bridge."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"My life's over anyway... I ran away from him... becausssse he never treats me right!" She stabbed an accusing finger at Carlos. "He'ssss the most disgusting man I've... ever seen!"

"You mean Mickey D?"  
  
"Yesss!"  
  
Carlos looked around nervously but said nothing.  
  
"He getssss all the attention... all the money... and I'm supposed to tolerate all these other women... sure, I'm the one he likes besssst..."  
  
"You mean he's cheating on you?"  
  
"Andlovesssstoletmeknowaboutit," Rita slurred and then suddenly began to sob. "It'ssss not fair, y'know! I loved him, I really did!"

Carlos felt himself getting more than just angry. All he wanted was to protect this poor woman. "I won't let him reach you here."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No. I won't let him come near you."  
  
Rita smiled. "That'sssss good."  
  
She closed her eyes - and then she passed out.

 

**********

 

"Twenty-one, and a winner!"  
  
"How did you do that?" Vanessa looked at her cards. "I still don't understand this game."  
  
"Dontcha worry - I'm here to explain it all to you," Texas said and patted her shoulder. "It's gonna be alright."  
  
She looked at his hand. "I told ya I'm married..."  
  
Texas smiled innocently. "I don't see no husband of yours anywhere 'round here."  
  
"I told you, he's at home. He doesn't know where I am."

"Then he can't be _that_ important... if ya don't even tell him where y'are...?"  
  
Vanessa rubbed her chin. "He _is_ important. But he's more interested in baseball."  
  
"He's married to such a lovely young lady and yet he prefers baseball? He sure got nerves!"  
  
Vanessa sighed deeply.  
  
Texas grinned - he had heard what he had wanted to hear "Here, Hon - take another card."

 

**********

 

"Rita? Rita!"  
  
"She's not here anymore, kid," Anderson said and looked at Carlos, who had been running through the entire hotel for about half an hour now.  
  
"But she _has_ to be here! I told her to stay in one of our smaller rooms - I took her there myself!"  
  
"Apparently, she didn't _want_ to stay," Anderson said dryly.  
  
"No! She wouldn't leave me just like that!" Carlos looked at the nearby office door. "The office - of course!" He ran towards the door, threw it open and looked at the office table. And, sure enough, there was a big red envelope with his name on it.  
  
He opened it, took out the piece of paper that was inside and unfolded it.

 

_Dear Carlos,  
_  
_Please don't ask me why, but I have to go back to Mick. I know this is not the smartest thing to do, but I wasn't myself last night. I'm sorry for putting you through all this._  
  
_I'll call you, alright?_  
  
_Rita_  
  
  
Carlos ran his hand across his face. She had gone back to Mickey D? Why?  
  
He didn't get it.  
  
At all.


	7. Chapter 7

Hudley knocked on the door twice, just as he had been told to. Before he could wonder why such a code was needed, the door opened just a bit.   
  
"Hands up where I can see them!"  
  
He raised his hands, feeling more miserable with each passing second.   
  
Why had it been him?   
  
Why not someone else?  
  
The door opened fully.  
  
"Come in. Slowly."  
  
Hudley did so - and the first thing that greeted him was, of course, the barrel of a gun.

He had a dreadful sense of déjà vu. It had been just like this when he had paid that visit to Mickey D a few days ago. Hell, had it really been just days? It sure felt like weeks.  
  
The man who pointed a gun at him raised his other hand and pointed into the direction of the hotel room's living area. "That way."  
  
Hudley walked in.   
  
Three men were sitting at a large table, looking at him.  
  
"Y'sure he ain't one of Mickey D's men?" one of them asked the one who was still pointing his gun at Hudley.  
  
"He ain't. Checked him. Came out clear. He just owes Mickey D money."  
  
"Well... that makes four of us." One of the men stood up and waved his hand in which he was holding a cigar. "Allow me to introduce myself and my companions. I'm Apone, and that's Gorley and Maroon."

Hudley nodded briefly into their direction and then, in a rare moment of bravery, decided to speak first. "The man who contacted me said you would help me get out of Vegas without Mickey D ripping me into pieces...?"  
  
"Yes, that's right."  
  
"What do I have to do in return?"  
  
Apone smiled. "You're a gambler here at the Royale, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We want you to spy on someone for us."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Apone took a picture out of his pocket and gave it to Hudley. "Ever seen this man before?"  
  
Hudley briefly looked at the picture and then put it back on the table. "No. Don't think so."

"Good. - Now, you see, Mickey D rigs most of the games here in Vegas. Especially those at the Royale. Gets onehelluva lot of money for it. Since he can't be at every hotel every night, he usually posts some of his men at the various casinos in order to either keep an eye on things or to just see to it that no one ever wins the big jackpot. My friends and I managed to convince that man on the pic to come over to our side, though. He's now working for us while pretending to still work for Mickey D. Got it?"  
  
"Got it."  
  
"Problem is, we ain't sure if he's _really_ working for us. And that's where _you_ come in. You just keep an eye on him for a few days until we're certain. And then you'll tell us if we can trust him - and in return we'll help you get out of Vegas without losing a few important parts of your body."  
  
Hudley gulped; he knew that all this would only get him into even more trouble; he already had a hard time remembering who did what in this elaborate game - but then, there was no way in hell he'd be able to pay Mickey D the money he owed him.  
  
"I accept," he said.

 

**********

 

"Why dontcha tell me a lil' more 'bout your husband, Hon?"  
  
"There isn't much more to tell about him," Vanessa said slowly. "He's a decent enough man. But he won't like it that I'm gambling right now. It's my entire inheritance I'm putting on the line here, y'know."  
  
Texas nodded - and this time he was actually being sincere. He knew _all_ about annoying spouses, after all.  
  
"So, ya not gonna tell him whatcha doin’ here?"  
  
Vanessa sighed and looked at the martini in front of her. "I ain't sure yet. I mean I can't just go back and say 'darlin', I went to Vegas and lost all my money', now can I?"  
  
"Y'haven't lost it all yet," Texas said and patted her shoulder.  
  
She _would_ eventually lose it all, however, considering how bad she was at gambling. And then she'd have nowhere to go - well, nowhere except for his bed, of course.  
  
Texas grinned.  
  
It was _definitely_ time for another game of blackjack.

 

**********

 

Carlos slowly walked towards the door of the rather small apartment in which he lived. He was still feeling miserable. It had been quite a few days now since he had last seen Rita. She hadn't called, of course. He reached inside his pocket and was just about to look for his key when he heard footsteps behind him.  
  
Uh-oh.  
  
He walked on a little faster. If he could reach his apartment before -  
  
He almost slammed into a tall man who had seemingly come out of nowhere and who had placed himself right in his path. He neither moved nor said anything, but Carlos knew what was going on.  
  
In that very moment, the footsteps from behind reached him as well.   
  
"Look kid, we're only gonna tell ya this once," a hoarse voice whispered. "Leave Rita alone."  
  
Carlos whirled around. "What have you done with her?!"   
  
The man grabbed his wrists. "Stop this game, kid - or you're going to be the one who loses."  
  
Carlos squirmed, but there was no way for him to break the man's iron grip.  
  
"First and last warning," the huge man who was now standing behind Carlos said and suddenly there was a sharp pain in the bellboy's neck - and then blackness.  
  
When he came to, he was lying on the floor, his head spinning.

  

**********

 

Hudley eyed the man who was standing next to the blackjack table. He didn't look like as if he was interested in the game that was taking place, but Hudley knew a thing or two about gambling - and he was certain that the man was paying attention to every single move the three people at the table made.  
  
Suddenly the man began to walk away.  
  
"Hey, Hud, it's your turn," Fred said. "Hud?"  
  
"Sorry, Fred - I gotta go."  
  
"But -"  
  
"Watch my chips, okay?"  
  
"Sure, but where are you -"  
  
Hudley shook his head and quickly left the roulette table in order to follow the mysterious man while carefully avoiding to be seen or heard by him.  
  
The man was headed towards one of the elevators. Hudley cursed inwardly - if he really used the elevator, he'd never find out where he was going. Luck seemed to be on Hudley's side tonight, though, for the man did not use the elevator - he kept on walking.

As did Hudley, who quickly realized that they were headed for the kitchen.  
  
The _kitchen_?   
  
What the hell did that guy want in there?  
  
The man did not go into the kitchen, however - he walked into a room that came right _before_ the kitchen.  
  
Hudley followed him slowly and tried to get his shaking hands under control - he was a gambler, not a spy, dammit. And yet he knew that keeping an eye on this man was his only chance of getting out of Vegas in one piece. He looked around, then slightly opened the door and peered inside the room that was behind it.  
  
He saw a poker table and lots and lots of monitors. At first he was at a loss as to explain what he was looking at until it hit him - this had to be the room from which the rigged games were monitored!

The man was sitting in front of one of the monitors - doing his job, apparently.   
  
Well, whatever the hell his job was - there was no way for Hudley to find that out right now without drawing unnecessary attention to himself.  
  
Hudley softly closed the door and then walked back to where he had come from.

  

**********

 

Carlos was feeling rather desperate. The warning he had received had only increased his worry - and his determination to talk to Rita. She had, apparently, really returned to Mickey D - but he knew she wouldn't last very long at his side.  
  
She was so fragile - he just _had_ to save her.  
  
He rubbed his head that still hurt and continued to walk to the Royale. In his mind he was forming a plan that was probably more than just idiotic. But still, he knew he'd have to try.   
  
He had been working at the Royale for quite some time now - he knew about all the secret monitoring places that Mickey D had and he knew some of the men who watched the casino tables. All he had to do would be to ask one of them to take him to Mickey D right now.   
  
And then he'd demand to be allowed to talk to Rita.   
  
He'd find her and take her away with him.

He'd -  
  
"Carlos!"  
  
He stopped dead in his tracks. "Rita?!"  
  
"Shh. Over here!" He turned his head into the direction of her voice. It came from an open door that belonged to a rather old and abandoned building.  
  
He looked around twice and then walked up to it and through the door.  
  
Rita sat down on an old chair and turned away from him. In her hand she was holding a bottle of champagne - the stuff really seemed to accompany her constantly.  
  
"How did you know where to find me?" Carlos asked and closed the door behind him.  
  
"You learn a thing or two when you're with a man like Mick," she replied and then stood up and turned towards him.  
  
The left half of her face was red and swollen, her lower lip didn't look much better either.  
  
Carlos gasped in horror. "What did he do to you?!"  
  
"Nothing compared to what he's going to do to _you_ if he finds out that we've met again."  
  
"Rita, let me help you - it can't go on like this!"

"It has to. For now. Listen, Carlos... I don't want you to get killed. I'll call you as soon as things have calmed down a bit. Or as soon as I can. I don't know. But please, I _will_ call you. Just don't look for me or do anything stupid, okay?"  
  
Carlos sighed - everything in him just wanted to protect her from that monster called Mickey D.  
  
But, for now, the only thing he could do was nod.


	8. Chapter 8

Hudley closed the door to his hotel room behind him and took a deep breath. He knew he should be down there gambling with Jay, Fred and Spike - they were already getting suspicious because he was 'always running away', as they had put it.   
  
Gambling, however, had somehow lost its appeal ever since Hudley had heard that some of the games were rigged. He knew now that it hadn't been his fault that he had lost so much money - which made the entire thing even more frustrating, of course. Sure, his friends had been there for him and had helped him out on more than one occasion in the last few days... but the money he owed them was not the problem. Hell, not even Gloria's and his money that he had lost.   
  
The problem was the money he owed Mickey D.

He eyed the phone on the counter. He had to make this damn call in order to report to Apone about what his observations of that strange man had revealed: Nothing at all; he really seemed to be working for Apone and his friends.  
  
Nevertheless, Hudley had done exactly what he had been told to, he had fulfilled his part of the bargain. And, who knew, maybe things would soon be back to how he liked them: Plain and simple.  
  
Suddenly someone grabbed him, pulled him backwards and pressed something cold against his throat.

"The boss sent me to remind ya of something," a deep voice said.  
  
Hudley gulped.  
  
"Y'owe him money. A lot of it. And he wants it back."  
  
"Yes... I know... I will pay it back as soon as I can..." Hudley croaked.   
  
"I'm afraid that ain't gonna be soon enough."  
  
A soft tissue was pressed onto his face and Hudley smelled something chemical before he lost consciousness.

 

**********

"Rita just called," Anderson said.  
  
Carlos froze. "She did? What did she say?"  
  
"It was kind of hard to tell. She was... crying."  
  
"Crying? Damn. Mickey D thinks he can treat people any way he wants. Well, that's all over now -"  
  
The temperature suddenly seemed to drop a few degrees and Carlos turned his head in order to look at the door.  
  
Mickey D himself was standing there, wearing his well-known white suit and his overcoat. He slowly walked up to Carlos and Anderson and then raised his arm and pointed at Carlos.   
  
"You were told -"

Carlos gathered all his courage and strength - he was doing this for _her_ , dammit. "It's not for you to make the call," he said. "It's for Rita."  
  
Mickey D raised his eyebrows. "She sent me to tell you."  
  
"Okay, boys. Look, we can't afford to have any trouble in here. Why don't you just take this outside?" Anderson asked nervously.  
  
Mickey D barely glanced at the assistant manager. "Yeah, I like that. Come on, baggage man. Let's you and me take it outside."  
  
Carlos glared back. "When I was a kid, I used to look up to you guys. The suit, the fancy shoes. I really thought that made you somebody, but you're nobody. She could make something out of her life, you know. But you're not letting her."  
  
Mickey D was unimpressed. "Who are you to tell me what to do with my girl?"  
  
"I saw how desperate she is - the champagne and stuff you keep giving her won't help much longer. You just use people like Rita. She could do something with her life. She could be somebody if she only had the chance."  
  
"She is somebody. She's my girl."  
  
"You got her on the stuff. That's the only reason she stays with you. Because you feed her sickness. You've got to let me help her!"  
  
"Well, why don't we just go outside and talk about it?"

"Just watch yourself," Anderson said softly.  
  
"Don't worry."  
  
Carlos walked towards the revolving door and had almost reached it when Mickey D pulled a silver gun out of his pocket, aimed - and fired right into Carlos' back.  
  
The last thought of the bellboy was that one should never turn one's back on Mickey D.

 

**********

Hudley awoke with one hell of a headache, and it took him a few minutes to realize that he was strapped to a chair and that he actually knew the room he was in - it was the same one in which he had met Apone, Gor and Maroon a few days ago. Actually, they were there this time as well - but they didn't look very healthy.   
  
In fact, they looked pretty much _dead_.  
  
He looked around frantically and saw the mysterious man he had been following for the past few days sitting in a corner, smiling coldly.  
  
"Welcome back to the world of the living, Hudley Morrison."  
  
"How do you know my name?"  
  
"I know the name of every gambler in Vegas - especially the names of gamblers who come to the Royale. It is my favorite hotel." He slowly stroked the barrel of his silver gun and looked at the dead bodies of Apone, Gor and Maroon. "Even though it sometimes attracts the wrong crowd."   
  
"I thought you were working for them," Hudley said.  
  
"That's what _they_ thought, too. And I made sure you all continued to think this." He grinned.  
  
Hudley gulped.  
  
"You see, Mickey D pays me very well - and he paid me even better for this special mission. And I wasn't the only one who got paid well."

The man loudly snapped his fingers, and, a few seconds later, the door to the rather small bathroom opened and Hudley gaped at the three men who walked out of it.  
  
Fred, Spike and Jay looked rather different: They were all dressed in fancy black suits, armed with shiny silver guns and wore expensive-looking fedoras.   
  
"That's why you never had any problems with giving me money!" Hudley exclaimed. "You're part of this!"  
  
"It was our job to get you to stay here in Vegas," Fred said.

"But why did you want me to stay?"  
  
"You mean aside from the fact that you owe our boss money? We had to use you in order to get us to Apone and his fools. The boss knew they'd cause him problems at some point, so, he had to get rid of them. They were actually protecting themselves rather well - but they immediately wanted to come to your aid when they heard that you had been injured. Seems they desperately wanted that report from you."

Hudley looked at the mysterious man. "But you had _him_. He was working for them. He could have led you to them."  
  
"They would have found out if something had been wrong with him. The boss knew he'd have to find someone who had nothing to do with all this."  
  
Hudley began to realize what had happened. "It was all a big game," he said. "The money Mickey D gave me - he already knew about me!"  
  
"He knew you'd be very useful to him - especially when we told him that you'd come to Vegas."  
  
"How did you know about that?"  
  
"Gloria was very helpful."  
  
" _Gloria_ is in this, too?!"

Fred grinned broadly. "Sure she is. Do you really think she'd want to stay with a loser like you when she can have _me_?"  
  
Hudley briefly closed his eyes and then opened them again. "Why did you tell me all this?"  
  
The mysterious man once again smiled coldly. "It's one of the boss’ rules: No one dies without knowing why and what for."  
  
He aimed his gun at Hudley's chest - and fired twice.


	9. Chapter 9

Anderson ran his hand across his face in frustration. All those people... dead...  
  
Sure, there were times when one or two dead bodies were found in hotels in Vegas, it was nothing unusual - but _five_ bodies was a bit _too_ much, even for Vegas, and yes, even for the Royale.   
  
And the fact that one of the dead bodies was Carlos' was making all this even harder.   
  
' _He should have listened to me. I should have been there to prevent this from happening, not just for the Royale’s sake but also my own. He was like a son to me._ '  
  
Of course the police had questioned the gamblers and all the other hotel guests, but nobody had seen anything - or so they claimed. They all knew about Mickey D and what he was capable of.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Anderson looked up and eyed the three men in front of the reception desk.

"We spoke on the phone," the one in the middle said.   
  
Anderson recognized the voice and the accent. "You're the foreign investors."  
  
"That's right." The man snapped his fingers and one of his two friends placed a huge suitcase on the front desk and opened it.   
  
The assistant manager gaped at the content: One huge bar of gold – and quite a few dollars.  
  
"12.5 million dollars to buy this place. As promised." The man looked at Anderson and snapped his fingers again. The third man took a bundle of dollars out of his suit pocket and placed it next to the suitcase. "A little extra for you."  
  
"I... I... I'll get the manager!" Anderson croaked and felt his knees shaking when he turned in order to call the manager and tell him about the arrival of these flamboyantly generous gentlemen.

 

**********

 

"So, it's a deal," Texas said and looked at the young woman in the co-driver's seat. "Your husband won't learn anythin' about you losin' all the money if he's dead."  
  
Vanessa nodded slowly. "Yeah."  
  
"I'll ask a few old friends of mine to do it... we wouldn't wanna get too much involved in this, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He put his hand on her thigh and smiled broadly. "Just leave it all up to me, hon. Texas is gonna take good care of you."  
  
Vanessa smiled happily. "Yeah."

 

**********

 

Rita stood before the small tombstone and wiped away the tears in her eyes.  
  
She had _had_ to come here, even though it meant getting into another argument with Mick later - she owed it to Carlos, who was dead because of _her_ stupidity.  
  
The bellboy had beenso young - who knew, he'd perhaps have taken over the hotel at some point or at least have received a promotion. He had had so many things left to do - and then Mick had shown up and had ended his life with one single shot.  
  
And, of course, he'd gotten away with it, as he always did.

 _No_ one in Vegas got in Mickey D's way without regretting it.


	10. Chapter 10

**EPILOGUE**

 

 

 

The Royale's casino had changed - at least slightly. It was a little darker now, and there were a few more Blackjack tables - courtesy of the new owners who had vanished again, leaving the assistant manager in charge.

That was all that had changed, however.

Gamblers still came in with a lot of money and left without any, guests checked in and then out again after a few days or sometimes even weeks; and the occasional dead bodies were found if someone happened to be in the unfortunate position of owing Mickey D money and not being able to pay it back in time.

Generally, everything was still the same - and it always would be.  
  
Because Vegas would always be Vegas.

 

 


End file.
